


Losing

by Bryn Lantry (Bryn)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1986-01-01
Updated: 1986-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 14:22:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bryn/pseuds/Bryn%20Lantry





	Losing

##  
#  
“Shut up and take an order for once,”  
you finally snap, provoked.  
And what scares us both is that  
when we're alone, I do.  
Every day on the flight deck  
my rebellion has a desperate edge,  
humiliated by the night before  
when weakened by my inability to  
believe in anything,  
by the starkness and the cold and  
the stupidity of troubling to live –  
I give in to the luxury of surrender,  
the strange and beautiful relief  
of being mastered.  
Call it emotional catharsis.  
To be wrenched from my haughty, hellish  
solitude and taken,  
and for you the rare and badly needed  
glory of triumphing.  
I vex you until your eyes go light with fury,  
my throat dry to be punished for it.  
Knowing where you will shove my words  
in the private hell of your quarters.  
It's only me who is perverse.  
Your frustration and mangled ego  
can't help but take their own back  
when I come and offer it on a platter.  
Perhaps you even wish I didn't drag  
that kind of behaviour from you.  
But your savagery is a fascinating beast.  
Your pent-up, bewildered violence,  
your vengeance on a world  
that wrung the blood from your body –  
it allures me, promises answers.  
Shameful pleasure, shameful security.  
Nothing else can wake my blasé, deadened senses,  
or lull my razor-sharp and lonely mind.  
You call me arrogant, pampered, stubborn, smug.  
You're quite correct.  
Even though they caught me I never broke,  
never gave in –  
Kerr Avon never lost to anyone.  
#  
Blake. Save me from winning monotonously.  
Winning becomes a bleak purgatory.  
Dignified, supercilious, an aristocratic runt,  
I challenged you barrenly as I challenged them all.  
Break my ice,  
Slap me down,  
With barbarity and abuse make love to me.  
Then you can hold me in your burly arms, and grant  
the peculiar peace that comes after defeat.

##  
#


End file.
